Lots of people know I love Wonder Woman. I have friends who love Wonder Woman, and have loved her for a long time. Some of these friends probably watched the cartoon about her, or maybe even read her comic books as a little girl.
My love for Wonder Woman is not long-standing. I don’t remember watching the Wonder Woman cartoon when I was a little girl. I don’t remember having a Wonder Woman doll…although, my big brother did. He had an entire set of super heroes, and when he got them out, she was the only one I was allowed to play with. When he was done and put them away, I had to give her back. I didn’t read any stories about her, and I definitely didn’t pretend to be her.
I was a shy little girl, and I loved to read. I loved to play with my brother, and the few close friends I had. I was afraid of strangers, and the dark, and storms…and so many other things. My brother called me a wimp, and it was true. I wasn’t daring or adventurous. I didn’t play in the dirt. I probably didn’t even like to play in a sandbox. I didn’t want to go to the deep end of the pool, and to this day, I’m not sure if I ever used the diving board. I didn’t like to sing in front of people, and I really didn’t want to have to make new friends.
When I married Christopher, I was in college. He was in the Marine Corps Reserves, so he had to do a weekend drill every month, and left for two weeks every summer for training. During those times, I would leave our apartment and stay with my parents. (In my defense, we lived in a horrible part of town. There was a drug bust and shooting about 2 blocks away from our apartment at one point.)
Then I got pregnant and Christopher was deployed. I moved to an apartment closer to my parents, but most of the time, I just ended up staying with them. I hated being alone. I dreaded it, and didn’t sleep. I would sleep with the tv on, because in my mind, it made it seem like someone might be awake, and if people on the outside thought someone on the inside was awake, they were less likely to try to come in. It doesn’t make sense, but that was the way I thought.
And then Christopher was killed.
And I had choices to make.
It’s amazing to me how vastly life can change in the space of a breath. My entire world changed when Christopher breathed his final breath, and I had to figure out how to be his wife without him by my side. I had to learn to be a widow. I was 23 years old.
Three days after Christopher was killed, I was in church. People told me I didn’t need to go, and that everyone would understand if I didn’t go, but I knew that’s where I needed to be. My soul needed to be there, even if my body fought it. I knew I’d probably just stand there crying, but I knew that I needed to be surrounded by love on that day. I knew that I needed to draw on the strength of other people, and that would help me gain my own strength to keep walking through those days.
At this point of our lives, my parents and I lived in Ohio, but my brother and sister in-law lived in Florida. They flew up to Ohio to be with us during this time. He gave me a box of cards at one point, and I was a little confused, but that wasn’t surprising because he often gave me things that confused me.
It was a box of Wonder Woman greeting cards. They weren’t Snoopy, or Care Bears, or anything else that reflected my likes and interests at that time in my life. They were Wonder Woman. And he had written inside one of the greeting cards.
Here’s what he wrote:
Bethany,
When we were younger, I used to tease you about being a wimp or a scaredy-cat. Let’s face it-you were pretty much scared of everything.
But in the last few months, I’ve seen a strength in you that I didn’t know existed.
You’ve been through a lot. You’ve had to deal with things most people couldn’t handle.
And you’ve done it all with grace and strength.
Bethany, you’re an amazing young woman.
I don’t believe there’s anything you can’t do.
-Caleb
I can’t explain, really, how those words made me feel in that moment. I knew my big brother loved me. I even knew he liked me. But to know that he was proud of me, and that he thought I was strong was an even bigger deal than he probably realizes.
For me, it was one of those moments when I needed someone to speak truth into my life. I’m thrilled that the words came from my brother. I needed to be told, “You can do this. You’re already doing this. And you don’t just have to struggle through. You can thrive and grow in this moment, because God has the strength you need to get through this.” That’s probably not what most people see when they read my brother’s words, but that’s what I see. God saw me in those moments of darkness, and He didn’t let me get swallowed up by it. He walked through it with me, and gave me all the strength and grace I needed in order to live through it. I didn’t have to wander through the darkness aimlessly, because He was my light. I didn’t have to fear the future, because He held my tomorrows. And I knew that if I continued to lean on my God, He would see me through that season of intense grieving.
My brother’s words were a reminder to me that God was my foundation, and that He had already given me the strength I needed to do some pretty hard things. At that moment, I had been living without my husband for about 7 months. We had only been married a little over a year. I had continued going to college while I was pregnant and my husband was deployed. I had gone through the delivery of my first baby without my husband by my side. I had learned how to be a single mom, even though I wasn’t really a single mom. I had learned how to survive while missing a piece of me, because he was defending my country’s freedom in a faraway land. I had learned to sleep through the night, even when I was afraid. I had learned how to be a Marine’s wife, and now I’d have to learn how to be a Marine’s widow.
When my brother gave me that box of cards, and I read his words, I felt strong enough to face what was coming. At that point, I still had to go through calling hours and a funeral, and I still had to bury my husband, the love of my life. But my brother’s words opened my eyes to see that I was capable of greater things than I’d ever realized. I could be strong, courageous, and brave, like Wonder Woman. Someone told me shortly after Christopher’s death that, when she saw the pictures of me at his funeral, she told her husband, “She’s the epitome of a Marine wife. She’s strong, and capable, and dignified.” I don’t know if I would have said those things of myself at that time, but looking back, I can see it. I was changed by Christopher’s death, absolutely. But I didn’t let his death change who I inherently was. I chose to be strong in those moments, and chose to let God hold me together instead of allowing myself to completely fall apart.
Years later, I have moments when I struggle with believing that I can do this. I struggle with feeling like I can’t be the mom my kids need me to be, or that I can’t be a good wife. I struggle with feeling like this life God has called me to live, this story He has given me, is too much or too hard. I often think He gave it to the wrong person. I don’t always feel strong enough to be a Marine’s widow, who is remarried to her first husband’s best friend and squad leader, who ended up becoming a Sheriff’s Deputy. Any one of those things on their own is hard enough to handle, but to have all of them in one package can seem overwhelming. Honestly, there are days when I struggle with feeling like my faith won’t see me through.
But then I see Wonder Woman. And I remember that my God makes all things possible, and that if He got me through that, He can surely see me through anything else that comes my way. I can choose to be strong, courageous, and brave, and I can do it all with dignity and grace.